


Fall On Me

by FandomLife54



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Guilt, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lots of Hugging in this Fic, Multi, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24369442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLife54/pseuds/FandomLife54
Summary: Trigger warning: discussion of suicide“Excuse me, sir? Are you Mr. Kishimoto?” The man doesn’t so much as blink. “Right. I was afraid you’d say that.” In one short huff and the very distant gasps of the crowd below, Buck stretches a leg over his own balcony, balancing himself on the edge. That gets the man’s attention.ORWith things no longer the same after the lawsuit, Buck decides that he needs to leave LA. Before he does, though, the team answers a call to rescue a jumper. Buck's heart-to-heart with the man sets off a mess of reactions that just might convince him he still has a home at the 118.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Howie "Chimney" Han, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 801





	Fall On Me

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: discussion of suicide
> 
> Fics like this honestly scare me. It's easy to fall into that rabbit hole and just keep digging. But, the idea got caught in my head and I wanted to share. 
> 
> My loves, be kind to yourself. If you find yourself drawn more and more to these kinds of fics, searching for answers, I'm sorry but authors like me can't provide them. We help a specific character we craft to express something inside of ourselves. What you feel is likely different in ways an anonymous piece of writing cannot mend. If you relate to this fic, I hope it provides comfort but do not seek it as salvation. 
> 
> I'm putting the US suicide hotline number at the end of my fic. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

Buck knocks on the door even after seeing Bobby sipping his morning coffee in the kitchen five seconds ago. Habit, he guesses. One quick glance down the hall tells him no one is around to stop him from laying this request form on his captain’s desk. Not that they would. 

A small part of Buck wanted to see Bobby’s face when he handed the papers in, hoping a sudden understanding would pull the cover from his eyes. That this is happening, but it doesn’t have to. Buck would give anything to get back to the way things were before the lawsuit. It’s not up to him, though. He accepted that fact two days ago. 

The alarm bells ring long after he’s placed the paper down and it takes every ounce of will to not take it with him when he leaves. This is for the best. Well, so he keeps telling himself. 

They answer four calls back to back and since he first hopped into the fire truck that morning, Buck has been dreading the thought of returning to the station. He _should_ _not_ have turned that form in at the beginning of an eight hour shift. He _should_ have turned it in at the end so he could run home and cry like the coward he is. 

By some miracle, the calls keep them away most of the day. It’s not until hour six that they manage to catch their breath and Bobby is too busy whipping everyone up some food to even think about his office. Buck knows this because, instead of hiding downstairs like he usually does nowadays, he’s been perched on the floor of the lobby, leaning against the couch and listening to the distant conversations. 

It’s not eavesdropping, exactly. They saw him, they know he’s there. It’s just with him ducked behind the cushions, his presence is even easier to ignore. Out of sight, out of mind. 

“Bobby.” Buck’s ears perk up at Eddie’s voice. “Jackson and DeMayo just finished inventory and it looks like we’re running low on a couple things. Want me to leave the list in your office?”

The colors of the world spill from the corners of his eyes.  _ Say no. Please, say no.  _

“That’s alright, give it here. I got some paperwork to do after we eat.”

So he’s spared another twenty minutes. It doesn’t make him feel better. 

Dammit, he shouldn’t care this much. His so-called  _ team _ has been ignoring him for weeks. His  _ family  _ refuses to even consider his side of things even though he’s apologized a dozen times. His  _ friends _ only speak to him on calls and only in the most professional of tones. His  _ best friend _ -

Buck digs his back into the couch, breathless. No, that memory is still tender to the touch.

Exhaling one silent sigh, he rises from his hiding spot, feeling the glares pierce his skin like always. Once again, Buck reminds himself that what he’s doing is for the best. 

“You’ve been distracted today, Buckley. Is there something you’d like to discuss?” 

It’s a captain’s duty to ensure every member of his team is in the right mindset to do their job. Buck knows this because they’ve had conversations like that before. So, he knows exactly how different it feels coming from his captain right now. This is not a man asking someone he cares about if they’re alright. This is a professional following their code of conduct. 

“No, sir.” At least he sounds normal. “Sorry, sir. I’ll try to be more focused." 

Bobby doesn’t even respond to that. The conversation quickly shifts and everyone resumes as they were before. Buck serves his food and heads downstairs to the locker room. 

His fork is absently pushing spaghetti around his plate when Eddie walks in. 

“Hey.” Oh. Buck can’t remember the last time Eddie started a conversation. “About Christopher’s party tomorrow…” 

_ Oh.  _ Of course. 

“I got your message loud and clear. Don’t worry, I’m not really into crashing 10 year olds’ birthday parties.”

Something similar to confusion mars Eddie’s face. “What?”

Alarm bells ring above their heads and the first, probably last, conversation with Eddie in forever is over. Dumping the mostly-full plate into the trash seems a little dramatic but Buck can’t bring himself to care. He just wants to go home. 

If Buck had focused more like he promised, he probably wouldn’t be so shocked by the man sitting at the edge of a balcony twelve stories above them. 

“Buckley, Diaz, I want both of you on the roof for a rope rescue. Don’t drop until I give the command.”

Whatever careful atmosphere Eddie was trying to craft in the locker room fifteen minutes ago, it’s replaced with a tense rage clearly boiling under the surface. 

“I got it,” he says, ripping the equipment away from Buck and into his own arms. They’re in the elevator heading up to the roof when Buck hits the button for the twelfth floor. 

“You need someone to distract him, right? A megaphone can only do so much from a hundred and twenty feet down.”

He doesn’t give him a chance to reply before he’s stepping out of the elevator doors. The old woman next door answers Buck’s knocks with a smile, occasionally adjusting her hearing aid. A swift introduction and half an explanation later, she’s pushing him into her living room, telling him to take as much time as he needs to save Mr. Kishimoto. 

“Buckley, Diaz. Are you on the roof yet?” 

“Working on it, Cap,” Buck radios back before turning his volumes down. He’s gonna get in so much trouble. 

Walking out onto that balcony is like passing into another world. The view would be stunning, honestly, if it weren’t for the man contemplating to jump in his periphery. The gap between the balconies isn’t terribly wide and Buck has a sick feeling that’s going to work in his favor soon. Finally, he looks at Mr. Kishimoto. 

Glassy eyes trailed off towards the horizon, wrinkled clothes, sunken cheeks. Yeah, Buck knows this look. 

“Excuse me, sir? Are you Mr. Kishimoto?” The man doesn’t so much as blink. “Right. I was afraid you’d say that.” In one short huff and the very distant gasps of the crowd below, Buck stretches a leg over his own balcony, balancing himself on the edge. That gets the man’s attention. “Woah, woah. It’s ok,” he waves, noting the white-knuckled grip Kishimoto has on the top rail. “Look.” Buck folds his hands together on his lap. “I just thought I’d sit here with you, if that’s ok?” 

No response. 

Gently, the view pulls Buck’s attention once more. Winter brings the sun down sooner and sooner every day. Right now, mid afternoon, they’re already enjoying the sun setting over the ocean in the distance. 

“I can see why you chose this spot.” Maybe it’s the compulsion to spill your secrets to a complete stranger or the soft rays of light hitting the clouds above, so far away from it all, that he says it. It’s definitely past his lips before he can decide. “I’ve been on a couple ledges in my life, but this one takes the cake. Beautiful choice.” The words won’t stop. “This is the first time I’ve had company, though.” 

Buck always imagined the face of the person he’d eventually tell this secret to. The horror and disappointment in their eyes. The judgement. How every move would be like they were walking on eggshells to keep him from leaping over the edge. 

This… This wasn’t that at all. 

The man’s hard gaze softens and he almost looks…  _ relieved.  _ Buck guesses he was looking for someone like him, too. The thought is startling but easy to tuck away for later. There’s someone more important who needs him right now. 

“I- uh. I live in this apartment complex that faces a pretty busy street, but the back of the building leads to a bunch of alleyways no one ever uses. It’s taller than the other buildings around and my area doesn’t get many helicopters flying by, which is amazing for LA, so… I mean, yeah. I can go up there and sit on my ledge without worrying someone will find me.” The heel of his boots tap against the metal bars beneath him. “I’m sorry. You probably just wanted to sit here and enjoy the sunset before…” 

Those tired eyes no longer meet his, squeezing shut as he slumps further into himself.

“I don’t know about you, but I think about my ledge a lot. When things get quiet at work, or I’m alone at home, or when I’m buying groceries. I don’t mean to, but I start imagining I’m back there. And it doesn’t exactly make me feel better. It just helps… push everything else away. I don’t have to focus on anything. There’s just me, the quiet, and the back alley concrete. That’s all I need… That’s all I have.”

Kishimoto braces himself a little harder against the railing and Buck takes a moment to wonder where Eddie is before he’s brushing the thought away. All he can do right now is keep this man on his balcony, so he talks. 

“Sir, I won’t pretend to know your struggles. I have no idea why we’re here right now. But maybe-” The lump in his throat makes it difficult to speak. “We’re human right? Even if we’ve never met a person before in our lives, we can find similarities to cling to and help us relate. Help us understand.” His lungs stutter in his chest. Breathe. “I had this family -- people I cared for more than anything in the world. We’d been through so much together, I always told myself that things would always turn out alright so long as we had each others’ backs... But life got messy. Things happened. And… I don’t believe that anymore.” The back of his eyes sting almost as much as hearing the words out loud. “I lost them. They’re alive, but I lost them anyways. And I get so  _ mad _ sometimes-- flipping between being sad that they’re not  _ here _ and hating them because they  _ left _ me and hating  _ myself _ because… Because I started this. It’s my fault. And it’s  _ frustrating _ . Apologizing didn’t work. Nothing I tried worked. And I can’t- I can’t make things go back to the way they were. No matter what I say, or what I do, I can’t change the past.” Buck wipes a stray tear sliding down his cheek. “So I sit on my ledge and try not to jump.” 

The small sniff draws Buck’s eyes from the horizon, the last part of the sun drowned beneath the sea. There’s something broken in the sounds pushing past his lips. 

“What’d you lose?” 

A final sob breaks the floodgates. “ _ My daughter _ ,” he cries, tears pouring down his face. “My little girl. My baby--  _ I’m so sorry. Daddy’s so sorry. It’s all my fault _ .”

The raw sorrow in the man’s voice nearly claws a sob out of Buck’s own lungs. “What happened to her?” 

His words are hardly words, slurred and chopped as all the water in his body spills from his eyes. Buck manages to catch some of what he’s saying. 

_ Sick. Busy with work. Didn’t notice. Sooner. Realized sooner.  _

“I’m so sorry,” Buck whispers, but it’s still loud enough for the man to hear. His heart leaps when one of Kishimoto’s hands leaves the railing to muffle his cries and his whole body wobbles. “Woah. Careful.” Reality slips back into Buck’s mind like a knife. This man could fall. “Can… Can you tell me about her? What was her name? How old was she?”

The man’s vision comes back into focus for a moment. “Sofia,” he chuckles. “Her name was Sofia. She turned 11 today... I was gonna throw her an airplane themed birthday party.”

“Airplanes.” The edge of Buck’s lips twists up. “Was that her most recent hyperfixation?”

“Yeah. She liked looking at them out the window from her hospital bed. I got her every book I could find, and she’d stay up late reading them. The doctors would get upset with me, but I didn’t care. I could listen to her talk about planes all day.” His voice cracks and crumbles at the end, but he smiles. “Before that, she got obsessed with the ocean. Hence, this lovely view. I wanted her to be happy when we moved here. I knew I’d have to work more with my new job, but…” The back of his sleeve rubs violently at his nose and he clears his throat. “Do you have a child?”

“I-” It’s strange, the compulsion to say yes. On first instinct, it feels natural, obvious. Then, Eddie creeps into his mind. Even far from his team, he still finds himself cautious of all the new lines they’ve drawn, confining him to suffocate in the small box. “There’s a kid I…” His mind can’t find a way to phrase it. “But I messed up with his dad. I don’t think I’ll ever get to see him again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s probably for the best.” A sniff. “But, yeah, I totally get the hyperfixation thing. Christopher, he’s turning 10 tomorrow. He’s super into mechanics right now and wants to turn himself into a cyborg. I got him one of those toy gloves that you can fire missiles from, you know? I kinda splurged and got him a nicer one, spent a couple hours going through a dozen comments sections to find the best one in my budget. I just… I really love that kid. He’s-” A few tears trickle down on his knees and Buck doesn’t risk moving, afraid he might start shaking and never stop. “He’s gonna be great, whatever he grows up to be. I wish I could have been there to see it, but...”

“You still could. You could try to patch things up with his dad?” 

“No, I’m… I’m leaving LA.” It’s easier to ignore the man’s surprise. “This isn’t the first time I’ve lost a family. I ran here a couple years ago because I didn’t have anything left where I was and now it’s time to move again. It sucks and hurts like hell, but I’ll never regret knowing the people I met here. I’ll always love them and the memories they gave me. But... It’s over. So, I’m running. I’ll try again somewhere new, find some new ledges, hope I don’t jump off any of them. Make a new family, if I can. Find a way to make them stay.” 

Kishimoto looks off to the horizon, watching the stars blink to life. “I don’t know if I can do that. I… I don’t want a new family. I want Sofia. I just wanna be with Sofia.”

“No one sitting where we are wants something new. We want what we had. And we sit here because we know we’ll never get it. I’m sorry.”

“...I’m not like you. I  _ can’t _ .”

Buck’s already moving before the man can lean half an inch from his spot. Screams burst from below as he leaps to the neighboring balcony, Kishimoto yelling in fright. 

“ _ What are you doing!? _ This is dangerous!” His hands cling frantically to Buck’s jacket, then to the railing to anchor them as Buck’s hands grip the metal bars on either side of his body. 

“Don’t worry about me, worry about you!”

“I want to be with my daughter!”

“And this is the only way to do it!? Look at yourself. What would Sofia think if she saw you right now?”

The man shakes his head, trembling. “She can’t see me. She’s dead!” 

“But she’s alive to you right? Up there, in your memories. I know you remember her.”

“It’s not the  _ same _ .”

“Of course it isn’t. But I need you to use those memories for a second. Use every millisecond you knew her and imagine her standing right there,” Buck nods his head behind them to the empty doorway. “Can you see her? Can you see how scared she looks with her daddy trying to hurt himself? I bet she’s shaking, tugging at the back of your shirt trying to get you down. Sofia would be  _ begging _ you not to do this, man. Because just as much as you love her, she loved you. She’d never want you to do this to yourself, especially if it was her fault.” Kishimoto’s eye’s fly open. “Yeah. How devastated would she be if her dad killed himself over her? Because of something she couldn’t control. You feel helpless? Well so is she. ‘Cause she’s not here to talk you down.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t…” 

“Yes, you can. I know you held her hand when she was in the hospital, because that’s what I’d do for Chris. Remember what it was like? Her little fingers stretching trying to be as long as yours. I bet she gave you the  _ biggest _ smile when you picked her up because, to her, you were the strongest person in the world. Someone no one else could beat. Do you remember her telling you she loved you?” Something close to a shout bursts from the man’s chest and Buck refuses to look away. “These are the most painful things in your life right now, but you can’t shut her out. You can’t forget her. If you forget her, that’s when she really dies. I know you think it’s your fault she was sick, that things might have been different if you saw the symptoms sooner. You think you ignored her. Well don’t ignore her now. She needs you. She needs you to not give up on her.”

Buck adjusts his grip, breathing out slowly. “I know you want fall. It feels like it’ll solve everything, right? So, come on.” That watery gaze meets his. “You wanna fall? Fall. But fall on me. Because Sofia sounds like a great kid and I’d really hate to disappoint her by letting anything bad happen to her dad.” 

Whether it takes a minute or an hour, Buck doesn’t know, but slowly, gingerly, Kishimoto leans forward, then drops all at once. It’s a sudden weight that knocks the wind out of both of them but a laughter bubbles out of the man’s mouth, loud and vibrant and sad, and it’s all worth it. 

They cling to each other for all of a moment, and then they’re both climbing back over the railing to push their way inside. 

“Are you alright? Can I check you over?” 

“I’m ok,” he breathes. “I’m ok.” Buck is confirming it for himself when the man asks, “What’s your name?”

“Evan Buckley, but you can call me Buck. And yours?”

“Sora. Sora Kishimoto. It’s nice to meet you, Buck.”

Buck shakes the offered hand. “The pleasure is mine.” 

As his hand shifts to radio his team, his brain falters to a stop, finding the button already pressed down. As if to mock him, the jammed button waits for him to pull the radio into view before bouncing up with a click. 

“Buck?” Sound slams into him like a punch. “Hey, are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“Uh-”  _ Oh, no.  _ “I… We should head down. There’s kinda a process for these situations. I.. I can’t think of it right now, sorry. My head… I need to go.”

“Do you wanna talk about it first?” 

He can’t exactly deny the guy at this point, can he? 

“My radio was on… I think it was on the whole time we were out there.”

“And the other firefighters didn’t know about everything you told me.”

“No.”

“Are they the family you said you lost?”

“Yeah.”

He hums. “Yeah, that’s bad.” Buck stares blankly at the hardwood floor, paralyzed, when a palm comes up to him. “I can hold your hand, if you want? You held my entire body up. This is the least I can do.”

A warm smile breaks the ice around his limbs. “Please.”

The ride down the elevator is tense, but a little more calm with every squeeze of Sora’s hand. When the cops escort him away, Buck spots Bobby and Hen coming towards him. And he  _ really _ can’t do this right now. 

No car, no wallet, no idea where the nearest bus stop is, Buck is thankful he always carries a twenty dollar bill with him. He runs to the street, glad they’re on the busier side of town with a taxi around every corner, and starts hailing for one to save him. 

Bobby’s voice echoes through the crowded sidewalk. “Buck! Wait!” 

“My shift is over, the call is done. I’m leaving.”

“Can we at least talk about this for a second?” Hen looks ready to cry. Or maybe she already was crying. 

“No, we can’t.”

“Buck, please. Come with us back to the station.” 

The pain on his captain’s face has him reconsidering, but only for a second. Eddie and Chim burst out of the front doors of the building and the dread flooding his stomach is too much. 

“I’m sorry.” Bobby’s face falls. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

The last thing he hears before shutting the cab door is Eddie screaming his name. He hands the cash to the driver, taking however far a twenty can get him. Once he’s away from everything, he calls Maddie. Something in his tone must give off the right signal because she agrees to pick him up, no questions asked. 

As sweet and non judgemental her offer for him to spend the night at her place is, he declines. At her house, he can’t stop her from opening the front door. At his own place, he doesn’t have to answer for anybody. She walks him up to his apartment, following him inside, and he makes a show of actively getting ready for bed to ease her worry. It’s understandable. She did pick him up in his work uniform waiting outside a gas station with no explanation as to why he decided to leave before he could get his car and belongings back at the station. 

Skipping a shower is a small sacrifice if it means he can wallow in his own misery sooner. Try as he might, he can’t help but smile when she tucks him in, kissing his forehead gently before turning out the lights behind her as she leaves. He thought leaving LA meant he’d jump a few states away, but maybe he will stay in California. At least for a bit. Transfering a county over should work, right? The thought of leaving Maddie completely just doesn’t sit right in his chest. 

His heavy limbs sink a little further into his mattress at the thought, eyelids sliding shut. Just as he feels sleep begin to pull him under, a loud banging comes from his front door. And, nope. Not doing it. 

The banging continues, a little more desperate, and Buck bunches his pillows over his ears. When he thinks it’s finally over, the knocking is replaced by jangling keys. 

_ Shit. _

“Buck? Buck, are you here? Please, answer me.” 

A muffled groan doesn’t really count as an answer but Buck  _ really _ doesn’t care right now. He’s just sitting up in bed when Eddie reaches the top of the stairs. Truthfully, it’s hard to ignore the way those lungs are taking in large gulps of air, like he’s been running, and his hair is shuffled every direction at once. If this were a week ago, Buck would ask if he were alright. 

“What do you wa-?”

Strong arms wrap around him and suddenly his face is in the dip of Eddie’s neck. He almost gives in right there, almost lets his hands snake around the warm embrace and settle like they never left. But they did. This isn’t them anymore. 

“What are you doing here, Eddie?”

That has Eddie pulling away. The usual, ever-casual firefighter is gone and someone unfamiliar crouches off his bed, sitting on the floor in front of his dresser. 

“Right. Sorry.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “I just needed to see that you’re ok.” 

“I’m fine. You can go now.”

“Buck-”

“Leave my key on the table before you go. I need to give it to my landlord when I move out.”

If possible, Eddie sinks deeper into the floor. “Bobby found your transfer forms.” Silence. “Where will you go?”

“I don’t know, Eddie… I thought about Oregon, or Maine. Maybe Michigan.”

“You’re leaving the state!?” 

Emotions can be so contagious in close proximity, and Buck can feel every one coming off of Eddie burning at the back of his throat. 

“I haven’t decided, yet. I still have a couple days to figure it out while the paperwork gets sorted.”

“ _ Buck. _ ” God, he just wants to sleep forever. “ _ Please.  _ I know things haven’t been the same since-”

“Enough. I’m leaving, Eds. I can’t stay here anymore.”

“So you’re just gonna abandon Chris?”

It’s a low blow and they both know it. Something on his face must reflect the burning in his chest because Eddie almost looks scared. 

“You’re the one who didn’t let me see him. I get, what, three phone calls a week? And I have to make the excuses for why I can’t come over? He’s not stupid, Eddie, he know’s I’m lying. But I had to keep hurting him to keep you happy.”

“I-” The response is exactly what Buck expects. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever... Just leave me alone already.”

If  _ despondency _ were a person, Buck thinks he might be looking at him. Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair, all but gutted as he fights to rise to his feet. A couple of words try to form on his mouth before it closes. 

“Will you at least come to his birthday party tomorrow? To say goodbye?” 

“It’s kinda rude to show up without a present.”

That makes Eddie blink. “What do you mean? I heard you say you got him a glove that shoots missiles?” 

The fire in his chest burns hotter. “Don’t play innocent. Not tonight. I’m tired.”

“I’m not! What’s wrong, did something happen?”

“ _ Eddie _ .” Wide eyes bore into him, searching. “It… It wasn’t you?” 

“What wasn’t me? What do you think I did?” Silence. “ _ Buck _ ?” 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does!” Eddie’s hands take his, a thumb brushing over his knuckles as he kneels. “Buck, I’ve been a terrible person and a worse friend but I’m here now and I swear I will listen to whatever it is you have to say. I won’t leave you, again. Not unless you want me to.”

Facing the man is a lot harder after that. 

“Um,” Buck mumbles to the floor. “Two days ago, I left Chris’ present in your locker to give to him since I wasn’t invited to the party. I went to do chores and a couple hours later, when I was throwing out the trash, I found the present in the dumpster… It looked like someone ran over it with the ladder truck.”

All the blood leaves Eddie’s face. “You thought I…” 

“Yeah.” Holding hands is suddenly too much so he pulls back, curling his arms around his waist. “Figured that was a sign to finally accept reality. I filled out my transfer papers that night, but it took me a day to actually put them on Bobby’s desk.”

“A day?” Eddie’s eyes flicker as he runs through his memories. “That’s why you were distracted?” 

“Yeah. I’m supposed to spend my next two days off packing and deciding where to go.”

“Stay.” Buck can only muster half a glare. “I know we messed up, Buck, we see that now. But, please, give us a chance to fix this. We can make it up to you.”

“I don’t want your pity. None of you would even be  _ trying _ to talk to me if today’s call hadn’t happened.” 

“It’s not pity, I swear.” He exhales. “This morning, when I brought up Christopher’s party, I was trying to invite you. I’d been meaning to invite you for, like, two weeks. Chris missed you. I missed you…” A harsh laugh breaks from his chest. “I wasn’t even mad anymore. But I didn’t know how to talk to you either, so I kept pushing it off. I didn’t even think about your feelings... I was counting down days when you didn’t even know there was a clock.”

There’s a bright shine to Eddie’s eyes that Buck can’t help but comfort. 

“It’s-”

“No. Don’t.” Another scoff. “I thought I’d learned from Shannon but I’m still making the same fucking mistakes…” Buck’s not sure that was meant for him to hear. “Please. Just… One week. Give us one week to try and win you back. If you still hate us after that-”

“I don’t hate you guys.” 

Eddie smiles softly. “We don’t hate you either.” 

After a small eternity stretched within a moment’s consideration, Buck agrees. 

…. 

Happiness isn’t something Buck’s felt much of for a while, but the universe seems to be gladly overcompensating as he knocks shoulders with Denny and Chris, Harry vigorously cheering them on as they button-mash the game’s controls. 

Buck hasn’t spoken to a single adult here except for Athena, who gave him a hug just one second longer than normal. Maddie has had an unusual amount of distance between her and Chim since they arrived; a couple of inches, but still. Chimney must have told her. It’s the tear between being happy his sister took his side and fearing he ruined a great relationship for her that keeps him away. 

Throughout the game, he can’t help but sneak glances to the crowds around them, never actually meeting anyone’s eyes. It’s not until May comes over, drinks in hand, that Buck breaks the habit. The smile on her face as she hands him the drink tells him everything. She knows, and she sits on the floor in front of the couch, pressed against his calf. Something in Buck’s chest swells and he thinks this might be what it’s like to have a little sister. He loves these kids so much. 

They sing happy birthday, cut the cake, and watch Chris open his presents. When Buck whispers an apology for not getting him anything, the boy is quick to assure him that all he wanted was to hang out with his Buck again. And Buck tries really hard not to break down after that. 

As the party nears its end, Buck has no choice but to make his move. 

“Captain Nash.” Bobby stands at full alert, his eyes betraying his calm expression. “If possible, do you think you could put a hold on those forms I turned in yesterday? Just for a week?” 

The man nearly drops his drink, Athena gripping his arm. “Of course. Yes. I-”

“Thank you.” Buck walks away, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on him as he heads over to Christopher. “Hey, buddy. I’m gonna head out but I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?”

“Can we hang out instead? I miss you.”

It’s like a hot iron to his stomach, but he smiles, excuse ready on his tongue. 

Another voice speaks before him. “Yeah, you should come over, Buck. Better yet, we can all go somewhere fun, make a day of it. I know you have tomorrow off.” Wow, Buck did not expect Eddie to go that hard but the determination on his face is kinda endearing. As are Chris’ puppy-dog eyes. Damn his heart. 

“Alright.” He gives a pointed eyebrow raise to Eddie before turning back to Chris. “Anything for you, Superman. Where do you wanna go?”

“The zoo! Then ice cream!” 

“You sound excited enough for double scoops. You’re not sugared-out after your cake?”

“Nope!” 

Buck can’t help but laugh and, suddenly, the stares return, stronger than before. That’s when he decides it’s definitely time to leave. 

“Ok. Tomorrow, animals and frozen treats. It’s gonna be great.” Chris giggles under Buck’s hand as he ruffles his hair. One kiss on the forehead and Buck’s ready to go. “I love you. See you tomorrow.”

When Eddie follows him out to his car, his anxiety finally takes over. 

“Alright, what was that? I was just talking to Chris and then everyone started glaring at me. I could feel it on my skin. What’d I do now?” 

Horror washes over the man. “No! No, no one was glaring at you, I promise. I think we all were just surprised to hear you laughing. You… It’s been awhile.” 

Well. He has no idea how to respond to that. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

“See you tomorrow.”

… 

Christopher’s crutches click happily around the zoo, Buck strolling beside him as they stop at every exhibit on the path. 

“Look!” Chris points to the tiger and then his shirt. “We both have stripes on.”

Buck chuckles softly, crouching down to his level. “Yeah you do. But you got way more energy than that guy over there. Did you know tigers sleep up to 20 hours a day? I can’t even sit you down for 10 minutes sometimes.”

“Kids are supposed to have energy! I’m not old like you or dad.”

“Ouch! You’re calling me old? I guess you don’t want this lemonade,” Eddie huffs, pretending to turn around to return it.

“No! I want it!” he laughs. 

“So I’m not old?”

“Not as old as abuela.”

Eddie relents with a groan, handing over the drink. “Yeah, well you’re 10 now. Double digits. There’s no going back.”

“I like being 10.”

“Good,” Buck says. “Stay that way. Don’t ever grow up.”

“If I do, can we still go to the zoo together and eat ice cream?”

Christopher misses the stutter in Buck’s step at the words, but Eddie watches him intently from his periphery. 

“Of course. You’re never too old for the zoo.”

They continue to walk around, Buck eventually carrying Chris on his shoulders as Eddie lugs around his crutches. Several times as they’re chatting over their thai food, Buck catches Eddie typing furiously into his phone. 

“Everything alright?” he asks as they pay the bill. 

“Great!” That smile is a little too forced and Buck ducks his head at the effort, something hollow growing in his chest. “Let’s go pick up some ice cream and we can head back home to watch a movie.” 

Eddie is tapping at his phone again as Christopher sleeps tucked against Buck’s arm on the couch. 

“I think you should probably get him to bed. He has school tomorrow.”

The words snap Eddie away from his screen. “Right,” he drops the device on the table, reaching for his son. “I’ll be right back to walk you out.”

If Buck were a better person, maybe he would have just sat there like a normal person would when they hear someone else’s phone go off. Or maybe he is a good person for holding back until the fourth buzz across the wooden surface. Of course what he finds slaps him back in the face. 

A group chat. It’s everyone from the team, Michael, Athena, Karen, even Maddie. And they’re talking about  _ him _ . He forces a shaking finger to scroll up dozens and dozens of messages. There are glimpses of anger, of accusation, shards and pieces of the things Buck told Sora. 

“Buck…” He turns slowly to find Eddie staring wide-eyed at the phone in his hands, and then him. “I can explain.”

“You guys are talking about me behind my back.”

“It’s not like that! We- We were worried. We’re just trying to figure out the best way to help you.”

“I didn’t _ask_ for your help!” His teeth ache with the force of his clenching jaw. “ _This_. This is exactly why I never told any of you. Now this is all you see when you think of me.” Eddie’s pleading something when it clicks. “You ran to the roof.” The man looks like a deer caught in headlights. “That’s why you were out of breath yesterday, when you came over. You ran to check if I was on the roof first. Or did you check the back alley before that?” The silence tightens the noose around their necks. “I don’t need you to _save_ _me_ , Eddie. I just wanted to be your friend.” 

Buck’s out the door and down the driveway before another word can break him. 

….

The laces of his boots tighten and pull as Buck dresses absently that morning. His brain whispers that he hasn’t seen Eddie around yet, but the thought flies away when Hen sits next to him on the locker room bench. 

“Ok,” she breathes, like she’s rehearsed this. “I know you don’t want to hear this so I’m gonna keep it brief.” Buck finishes tying his boots, looking to her with an exaggerated lean on his knees. “Buck, we have no idea what we’re doing. We overheard something so deep and personal, and we burned so many bridges with you these last weeks; we had no idea how to reach out. The group chat was a bad idea, but we thought if we combined our efforts we could beat the countdown in our heads. You were transferring. It pushed us into full panic mode. That doesn’t mean what we did was ok.” Her thumbs brush over each other as she stares down to her clasped hands. “I don’t want to make excuses for our behavior, so I won’t. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry, and I’d really like to be your friend again, if you still want that. I miss you.” He chews on his bottom lip, no words even trying to breach the surface. “That’s it. Speech over. I’m heading upstairs to play video games if you want to join me.” 

Buck does, and he actually has fun.

….

It’s a quiet day despite the fact that they have multiple calls. No one says much aside from the usual dialogue that gets them through a situation. If this is how the rest of the week goes, Buck kinda regrets extending his stay. The tension around him is suffocating. 

When they finally catch some time for a late lunch, it’s apparently Chim’s turn to confront him.

“Chimney, it’s fine.” Buck wants this over before it begins. “I’m sure Maddie already chewed you out enough.”

“She has. But there’s still some stuff I need to say, if you’ll hear me out?” The decline should have come easy, but nothing is ever easy with his team. He nods. “I know Eddie and Hen have talked to you already. Everything I say will probably sound like a repeat. So I thought I’d just tell you what it was like on our side of the situation. And, yes, I see the irony here.” 

Buck can’t help the small snort. Then, the joy sobers. “Go ahead.”

“So,” nervous fingers scrub his chin. “You and Eddie headed up to the roof, or we thought you did, and Bobby radioed to check in. You answered, but then suddenly you were on the ledge too. We all freaked out, wondering what the hell was going on, then Hen realized you weren’t holding down your button. Your radio was broadcasting and we couldn’t talk to you. Bobby and I changed our channels so we could still communicate and I ran up to the roof to let Eddie know what was happening.” The look Chim gives him makes him wither. “Buck, I thought Bobby was bad, but Eddie looked like he was about to lose his mind. He was panicking, hard, thinking he’d have to decide between saving you or the man we came to help. And... Hearing everything you said, how you’ve been feeling, how much you love Christopher, how you’re leaving LA. I think he died for a moment when you jumped balconies. He was screaming at Cap to let him go down, but Bobby told us to trust you.”

The weight on Buck’s chest doesn’t so much lift as shift to a new spot. 

“I didn’t know you guys were so effected…” 

The noise Chim makes is almost a chuckle. “God, Buck, we were a mess. We’re still a mess. I can’t tell you what it was like seeing you balance yourself up there. I thought I was gonna watch another brother fall to his death. And it would have been my fault, again.”

“ _ Chim _ , no-”

“It’s true. I let my protectiveness over Cap and my own pettiness drive you away and I caught a glimpse of what it could do.” A tear drips from his lashes. “I don’t deserve for you or Maddie to forgive me, but I’m so sorry, Buck. I love you like family, I’m sorry I haven’t shown it.”

Buck pulls Chim to his chest, holding him close. “Thank you for telling me.” 

….

It’s the seventh night of their one week trial and they’re all packing up after a twelve hour shift. It’s hard to say things have gone back to normal when he can’t really remember what normal was like. 

Everyone’s talking to him again. The glaring has ceased. His daily list of chores has shrunken down considerably. Those chores were now given to Jackson and DeMayo. With a quick check to the security cameras, it was shown that they were the ones that ran over Buck's gift to Christopher. Apparently, they weren't happy about Buck suing the 118 and decided to take his punishment into their own hands. The misuse of equipment and the harassment of a fellow firefighter was enough for severe reprimand, but Buck didn't want them to suffer too terribly. So, chores it was. If there was still one thing out of place, it would be…

“Captain Nash.” His voice draws every pair of eyes in the room, Eddie’s hand halted halfway closing his locker. “May I speak with you in your office?” 

“Of course.”

No one even tries to hide the fear on their face as their captain and friend walk out of sight. When the door shuts behind them, Bobby gestures for him to sit. 

Buck has been working with the man before him for years now. He’s seen his highs, his lows, and his many stages in between. But, only on rare occasions has he ever seen him afraid. It’s not a pleasant feeling knowing he’s the cause of it, seeing how hard Bobby is trying to keep it contained behind a mask. It almost keeps him from asking. 

“Captain.” He watches the man steel himself, muscles tensing. “Do you want me here?”

And just like that the mask slides off, the tension cut loose. Bobby stares at him in obvious disbelief.

“I-” Something shutters behind his eyes. “I want you to do what’s best for yourself. If you think a transfer is what you need, I will put in a good word to help you enter any station you’d like.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

The man frowns. “I shouldn’t have any influence on an important life decision like this. Too many factors come into play, so a single voice should not overrule-”

“ _ Cap _ .” The shean to his eyes blurs his vision, but he keeps their gazes locked. “I need to know.  _ Do you want me here? _ ”

“ _ Why the hell would I want you anywhere else!? _ ” Bobby slams his fist to the table, startling himself. It startles Buck, too. “I-” He sighs. “I know my actions suggested otherwise. I kept you away for so long, longer than you deserved. You worked so hard in therapy to pass the physical exam. You studied all the risks, side effects, and limitations of your blood thinners. You saved people in the tsunami, then again with the man through the windshield. You were prepared to get back out there, but I was the one who was scared. I didn’t want to lose another son…”

The words strike his core, tears flooding over his cheeks with a swell of emotion pushing up his throat. “Bobby…” 

“Then that damn lawyer got involved. And it was easier to have something to be mad at you about than face my own guilt for starting it.” He cuts him off before Buck can intervene. “No, I did. I started this. I’m so sorry, Buck. I made you the enemy rather than admit I was wrong. And I roped the rest of the team in with me. We all had each other to grieve to, but you had no one else. We were supposed to be your family and we shut you out.”

“Bobby.” The captain wipes his eyes, clawing for an ounce of composure. “Can I stay?” 

All formalities are lost, both men jumping out of their chairs and into an embrace.

“ _ Please, stay _ , Buck. We need you. I promise, every one of us wants you here.”

Buck digs his fingers in a little deeper. “Ok.”

….

It’s strange recollecting the memory, now four months past. Things… Things have been great. 

When he had walked out of Bobby’s office that night, it was directly into the arms of his teammates, all of them too worried to leave without an answer. 

Maddie had cried when she found out he was staying, and cried harder when he told her, privately, that he was going to _stay_ _close_ for her whether he transferred or not. 

Two weeks after their talk, Bobby introduced Buck to his therapist friend, Frank, and they’ve had multiple sessions since. It’s actually helping. 

No one, especially himself, has landed in the hospital recently. He finally got off his blood thinners last week. No major disaster has destroyed half the city again. Him and Christopher are stronger than ever. They’ve had more than a few parties where everyone comes together, and there’s even another one tomorrow for no other reason than to just be near each other. 

Right now, though. Right now it’s just him and Eddie relaxing on his couch with Chris knocked out in his bed upstairs. And it’s perfect. 

“Hey.” Buck rolls his head to the side to see Eddie watching him. “You zoned out. Everything ok?”

It’s a loaded question. Yes, he’s been to the roof a couple of times since he decided to stay. Bad shit doesn’t stop happening just because he finally found a home, and his nightmares still come and go. But things are better. He’s getting better. 

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“Do you want to rant or need advice?” 

Buck can’t help the wobbly smile on his lips. “Not that kind of thinking.” 

“Oh, did Frank give you homework?”

Yes, mental exercises are real and assigned regularly by Frank. Eddie knows this, since he’s been getting therapy himself. They even help each other complete assignments, sometimes. It’s strengthened their relationship a lot. 

“Nope. Well, yes, but that’s not what’s on my mind. I’m just… running some scenarios in my head.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” Buck chuckles. “It’s honestly making me more anxious.”

“Well then stop thinking and do it. That’s your specialty.” Eddie grins at that dumb pout. “It’s a compliment, Buck. Acting on your instincts is what makes you such a great firefighter.” 

“Are you saying nice things so I’ll tell you what I’m thinking?”

“Maybe.” 

Buck sticks his tongue out, then takes a deep breath. “Fine.” His eyes drift to the floor. “It’s about a guy.” A raised eyebrow is all that beckons him on. “We’ve been hanging out a lot lately, and… I’m scared I might have feelings for him because he might not feel the same towards me.”

Eddie doesn’t miss a beat. “How does the scenario play out in your head?”

“It ends with him never speaking to me again. Him looking at me like he’d never stoop so low to want someone like me.” 

“I thought you were talking to Frank about your self-depreciation?”

“I am but it’s been like two weeks, ok? This stuff doesn’t just go away.”

“I know. I get it.” Eddie leans back into the cushions. “Do all your scenarios end like that?”

“No... In some of them he kisses me back.”

The high blush on Eddie’s cheeks is impossible to ignore and it sparks hope in Buck’s chest. 

“He must be special if you’re spending so much brain power on him.”

“He is. For a while, I thought we might have something growing between us, but that feeling kinda got muddled under the people we were dating at the time. Then we were both single, and I thought, hey, maybe. But things happened… everything fell apart… It was tough being around each other for a long time. Things have gotten better, though. I think we’re both finally in a better headspace.”

“Sounds like you have a pretty good shot, then.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

Buck flexes his fingers a couple times, patting down the slight tremor. “But what if-” 

Lips as soft as his embrace, Eddie holds Buck close, the pad of his thumb tracing the curve of his cheek. It’s like learning a new way to breathe, to feel. Buck has to remind himself oxygen isn’t an option here, dragging the kiss as long as he can with some stolen sips of air. 

“Wow…” Eddie whispers against his skin and Buck feels his heart slam against his sternum. 

“Yeah…”

Some silent conversation happens with their eyes and they kiss once more, getting up to drag their tired bones upstairs. Curling around Christopher is easy and they pepper the boy with a couple of kisses to his mop of hair. 

Whispering their good nights, Buck leans into the peace, falling, falling, asleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> US National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:  
> 1-800-273-8255
> 
> Stay alive.


End file.
